


Ghost Train

by lost_spook



Category: Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Fairgrounds, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have been a small, technical matter, but there’s something feeding off fear in a ghost train – and the presence of Steel and Silver might be about to make things worse…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost Train

**Author's Note:**

  * For [severinne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/gifts).



> On seeing your request, I thought this part of it - "Any manner of fic for this fandom is invariably a good thing, and no matter the circumstances Steel snarking at Silver remains one of my favourite things ever. " - ought to be fulfilled. This is somewhere between snarking and being mildly shippy, as it turned out, but I do hope you enjoy it as an extra fill, anyway.
> 
> With many thanks to Persiflage for the beta.

Steel paused beside a life-sized plastic skeleton as it leered out of the wall towards him. It was covered in phosphorescent paint, causing it to glow green in the darkness. It wasn’t enough light to see by, but knowing humans, he assumed that was not the point.

He surveyed the rest of his surroundings with habitual disapproval. Mostly it was dark, too dark to make much out barring the luridly unreal skeleton. There were equally artificial cobwebs hanging down from above; he felt them touch him gently. 

“Steel,” said a familiar voice, and he saw first the thin torch, its light shining in his eyes, and then Silver’s bright hair, as he emerged from behind a carriage. The technician let his torch play over Steel, and then placed it down beside him, where it provided a low but more general light. 

Silver raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t expected _you_.” Then he smiled. “Not that I’m not delighted, of course, Steel.”

“My time has been put to better use.”

Silver disappeared again, crouching back down to carry on with his work. “It’s this. They seem to have salvaged an older carriage, and attached it to the rest – and the juxtaposition of that with the newer –”

“Yes,” said Steel, not much interested. It was a routine problem they’d seen too many times before. Then he moved forward, to a point where he could see Silver again, as the technician busied himself fiddling with something underneath the carriage. “How old is it?”

Silver put a hand to the side of it. “Most of it – about twenty years old. But there’s something – a part that’s been kept from something much older. Fifty years, perhaps.”

“That isn’t a significant discrepancy.”

“I know,” said Silver, sitting up, and looking up at Steel. “I thought that, too. But I think… I think perhaps there has been potential here for some time. A ride like this – it generates emotion. Brief and unimportant for the most part, but emotion.”

“Ride?”

Silver leant against the carriage. “Well, yes. What did you think this was, Steel? We’re in a ghost train.”

“A ghost train?” 

Silver gave a small smile, and then turned back to start pulling at whatever recalcitrant part of the machinery it was he was attempting to remove. “Yes. And no. _Not_ the same as a ghost ship.”

“A ride? For… pleasure?” Steel chose not to comment on the fact that Silver had picked up on what it was he hadn’t asked, or even fully formulated into thought.

“Well, it’s hardly the 4.30 to King’s Cross, is it?”

“King’s Cross?”

Silver laughed, and then abandoned the troublesome connection, standing and brushing his hands together to rid himself of the dirt. “Never mind, Steel. It’s a ride, that’s all. For fun. Well, for fun and to make the owners money.”

“It’s a circular track around a small and temporary structure. It doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Yes. That’s rather the point. The pretend horrors inside are supposed to scare them.”

Steel refused to be surprised. Humans paid to be dragged around in a circle through the dark in an attempt to frighten themselves for no good reason? Nearly everything they did made as little sense and was equally as unwise. “So there’s been a build up of emotion collected here – fear, dread – in this place?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly –” said Silver, and halted, tilting his head to look at Steel. There was something he had expected the other to see, Steel realised. 

Steel looked around him. He had said it himself. A temporary structure. “It’s designed to be moved frequently.”

“Yes,” said Silver, and then he smiled again. “But not only that. The emotion is brief – very rarely real fear. It amuses children – and, of course, it’s a good excuse to hold onto the person next to you.”

Steel ignored this, although he noted the frivolous lift in Silver’s tone. “Yes. And this… this technical issue that you can’t solve alone?”

The jibe only seemed to amuse Silver, as if he took Steel’s irritation as a compliment, or an achievement. He grinned in the torchlight. “I didn’t think they’d send you,” he said again. “The fault’s simple enough. We need to disconnect this carriage from the rest and I’m in need of a little brute force. I’ve already removed the bolts – well, almost –”

_Silver. Is there something else? Something more?_

“There might be,” he said. Then there was that slight, tell-tale hesitation again before Silver continued. “It’s hard to be certain. Anyway, now you’re here, Steel –”

_Silver, what is it?_

Silver drew back, and opened his mouth to answer, but stopped, turning his head as if in the direction of some noise unheard by Steel. 

There was something, thought Steel, his irritation mingling with wariness and he looked around him again, unable to pinpoint what it was. This was still so very… false. He didn’t feel anything threatening. Even as he thought that, the torchlight failed, plunging them both into darkness. Now Steel could hear something: from somewhere behind them, the noise of an electric generator. 

A light bulb switched on above them, casting a green glow over everything, and another of the carriages moved forward, on through the plastic strips that separated this section of the ride from the next.

Silver was suddenly standing beside Steel. That wasn’t me.

_No. It’s not only a technical issue any more. Somebody made an error, I suppose. Again._

_There was something before – but not anything substantial. Only a… Well, only a whisper. Even I couldn’t be sure…_

They both turned as a scream echoed through the ghost train, followed shortly by echoing cackles of laughter.

“Sound effects,” said Silver, leaning nearer to him. “Tape recordings played through speakers…” He stopped, and listened again, his voice trailing away.

_Silver?_

_It’s not a recording. There is something in here with us._ Silver plucked at Steel’s sleeve.

_Something?_

Silver edged to one side, away from Steel, and then cautiously knelt back down beside the carriage, reaching for his abandoned case of tools. _I wonder…_

“We need Sapphire,” said Steel, in irritation at not having the kind of information about the assignment that he had become used to. He missed her instinct for what lay behind the things he only saw from the outside. He missed her…

Silver smiled, as if at a private joke. “Yes. Oh, yes. I agree. But in the meantime I’m going to take a look at that generator.”

“Yes,” said Steel, but the technician had already slipped away. He moved forward, careful to touch as little as possible, examining the single rail along the centre. 

The problem, he thought, was in here, not out there, but it was a relief to be without Silver for a while. Silver was frequently a little too present in his thoughts these days. It was useful, but Steel wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with the idea.

Steel paused at the dividing section, looking at the painted face on the double doors. (The other end had white canvas strips, this a door. It lacked logic, or proper patterns.) He recognised it for one of their fictional monsters, a vampire. Humans had no idea of the true monsters that had no shapes and no names. 

The place fell silent, and the eerie green glow cut out and left him in darkness. And there was something there. He could feel it now, waiting. He couldn’t sense anything more specific, but he knew the feeling of being watched. It was curious, he thought. But he needed more details. He’d have to bring Silver back –

 _It’s noticed you_ , said Silver, suddenly next to Steel, as if he’d summoned him by thought. Silver shone his torch around them, but there was nothing new – or nothing visibly new, anyway. _You’re not afraid of it. Or no, not afraid in the same way, rather._

Steel waited.

_You’re not afraid of it. You’re afraid of what it could do._

_You were outside, Silver. Did you see anything?_

“No,” said Silver, “I didn’t see anything, but I checked the generator and there’s nothing wrong with that. It must be this connection that’s causing the trouble, so if I remove this last bolt and finish it –”

_Yes._

Silver handed the torch to Steel, and then, after darting an amused glance at him, positioned the other’s hands to point the beam at precisely the right spot. Then he moved away, and crawled back in between two of the carriages, only partially still in Steel’s line of vision. 

An unconvincing scream echoed through the structure. Steel moved forward. “Silver –”

_Yes._

Steel couldn’t see Silver fully, but he could hear him scrabbling about down by the carriage, talking under his breath to the awkward connection that was still eluding his efforts to undo it. Steel looked about him, hearing another noise, as if of something powering up, about to move –

The carriage shunted forward and then stopped, hitting against Silver. Steel bent down and managed to grab the other’s arm with one hand and the edge of the carriage with the other. It strained against him. Silver pulled himself up and back against Steel as he released his hold on it, letting it pass onwards, but this time impossibly moving away from the central rail and into darkness.

“You could be a little less violent,” said Silver, pulling his arm free and tugging his jacket sleeve straight.

“You could be more careful. What happened?”

Silver stared after it. “I think it’s waking up. Getting cleverer.” He paused and frowned, listening intently to its progress around the structure. “I wonder…” 

The carriage returned on the circuit, once more on its rail and bursting through the doors behind them to an accompanying recorded shriek and echoing sinister laugh.

“It’s us,” said Silver, leaning against Steel in the narrow space. “It thinks it can use us.”

“It’s mistaken.”

“Well, we know that,” Silver said, “but it doesn’t. It might do some damage before it learns that lesson.”

“Can you still not disconnect it?”

“Almost,” said Silver. “One last bolt. You distracted me.”

Steel looked at him. “I’ll hold it back – you get it done.”

Silver nodded and hurried back to finish his work, crawling back down next to the carriage, wriggling his way underneath it at an awkward angle, and reaching out for that tantalising remaining bolt. 

A cold breath of air passed over Steel and he frowned, before looking down again. There was no more noise, though, no more movement. _Silver._

The technician didn’t answer.

“Silver?”

Steel hung onto the carriage but looked down and round it even as Silver crept out backwards and held out a hand. He didn’t speak, but Steel could make out his expression, taut with fear. Steel gripped his hand and helped him back to his feet. As he did so, flashes of darkness and emptiness shot through his mind. He looked at Silver for explanation.

“It is, you have to admit, a quick learner,” was all Silver said, although it didn’t come out as lightly as he had presumably intended. Then he shook off the odd mood. “Shall I try again?”

Steel glanced at him. “One bolt, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Then I could do that.”

 _Careful, Steel. It –_ Silver hesitated. _It adapted itself to deal with me rather too neatly –_

Steel moved past him. “What was it you said, Silver? I’m not afraid of it.”

“I’m not sure –” Silver’s voice trailed after him as Steel crouched down and determined to forcibly separate the two carriages at need. “Steel!”

As Steel made the attempt he heard a sound like a crack, as if he’d pushed too hard and snapped something. Something vital, something that had been preventing a worse break. He stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what it was and what would happen, but he realised he was also cold – he was steadily reducing his temperature –

_Steel –_

He ignored Silver. This was too important and the technician couldn’t help.

“Steel,” Silver said, closer this time, speaking almost into his ear and putting a hand on his shoulder –

\- but he mustn’t, Steel thought. Silver couldn’t cope with his current temperature -

“Steel, it’s doing this,” said Silver. “The creature, remember. Let go of it, stand up – I can’t move _you_ , now can I?”

Steel frowned. It was an effort – all he could think about was the break, the darkness threatening to flood in – but he let go of the bolt and moved cautiously backwards.

“Good,” said Silver, relief evident in his voice. He put a hand to Steel’s shoulder again. “Are you all right?”

Steel merely got to his feet and moved away, out of the other’s grasp. “You’re right. Whatever it is, it learns fast.”

“It’s us, I think,” Silver said, softly. “It wasn’t aware of anything before – what it was, what it could do to Time, to the corridor and now – now it’s picking that up from _us_.”

Steel edged further away along the structure, glaring at the unconvincing plastic skeleton again. “Yes.”

“It’s only an echo, though,” said Silver, working it out aloud. “It reflected fleeting nightmares back at the humans riding the ghost train, but when it came to us, our fears were different. And we let it understand that once we remove that connection, it loses what little existence it has – so now it’s trying to fight us, to frighten us away.”

Steel looked back, contemplating trying again. Now that they knew what it was doing, he could surely get in there, break it off –

“Steel,” Silver said in warning and caught at his arm.

Steel didn’t shake the other off. He found that after that brief experience of fear, of nightmare, for someone who didn’t sleep, didn’t waste time in dreams, the connection with Silver was unusually welcome. The amusement he generally distrusted was a relief after that icy interlude, as was contact with the technician’s butterfly mind as it flitted infuriatingly from one thought to another. Unlike Silver, he was emerging from the experience only by degrees. Although, perhaps that wasn’t true; perhaps Silver was only masking his own reaction. After all, there was no reason for him not to have let go of Steel by now. Steel was almost curious enough to ask, but there was a mounting threat to be dealt with here, so he put the thought away for another time.

All Steel said aloud was: “Do you have a better idea?”

Silver turned his head, suddenly all stillness and focus. “Yes,” he said eventually. “Of course I do. This is a fairground, Steel. Somewhere here, they should have exactly what we need!”

*

“Silver. Explain.”

The two of them walked along the temporary street created between the rides and stalls, over the mud, grass and straw. A dog, chained to one of the caravans behind, tensed on seeing them, but it slunk back after Steel looked across at it. Animals were so much simpler than humans.

“You mean to say you haven’t guessed?”

Steel glared at him. They were surrounded by precarious rides, some modern, some antiquated; stalls with prizes that no one would otherwise pay for, and food stalls that sold items with precious little nutritional value. He didn’t know what it was Silver was looking for and he wasn’t sure he’d trust him with any of these things, even the unnaturally coloured stuffed toys. “Silver!”

Silver darted a quick, amused glance across at him and then, before he could speak, was suddenly diverted by the sight of a tiny locked up stall nearby. By the time Steel joined him, he had removed the cover and was delving about inside its workings.

“Is this it?” Steel asked.

Silver laughed. “No. Look, Steel – candyfloss!”

_Silver. There isn’t time._

Silver admired the workings of the simple machine. “Fascinating. It’s mostly air, you know. You see, they take the sugar and –”

“Silver!”

He looked up and seemed about to object, but then he only smiled and gestured to Steel to carry on walking. Steel watched him closely as they went. Silver seemed to think he should have worked it out by now, but then Silver had probably been somewhere like this before. Steel hadn’t. There had been a circus once and a pleasure park, other things. Steel was about to stop him and forcibly demand an explanation, but they met a man, who nodded to Silver as they passed.

 _Silver_ , said Steel. _I’d have expected them to start objecting to us being here by now._

 _Oh, I saw him earlier,_ Silver responded. He waved a hand. _Emergency safety inspection. From the council._

_In the middle of the night? Is that… usual?_

_Well, he said he was expecting me,_ Silver returned and gave Steel a bright grin.

“Anyway, where are we going?”

Silver halted and pointed ahead with his free hand. “There. I thought I’d seen it earlier.”

Hall of Mirrors, Steel read, and then he understood, finally. He looked back at Silver. _You think that will work?_

“I don’t see why not,” said Silver.

*

“They’re distorted,” said Steel. He wandered about the tent, appalled by the carelessness. To reflect back deliberately false impressions of reality like this, so many of them – how could they not see the obvious danger?

“That, Steel, is the point.”

“And they pay for this?” Steel couldn’t imagine the attraction even for someone unaware of the potential risks, but as he turned he saw Silver amusing himself by standing in front of the nearest mirror, seeing himself reflected back as squat and wider than his actual form.

Silver turned around and smiled at him. _Well, they’re entertained by stranger things._ Then, abandoning his more frivolous attitude, he moved onto the next mirror, casting a professional eye over it, and then running a finger up and down it, frowning. _And right now, it’s very useful for us._

“I understand the concept, Silver, but it’s too clever to be tricked by a mirror.”

Silver looked over at him. “I don’t know. It’s merely a reflection itself – it only reacts. It doesn’t seem to be capable of originality.”

“Yet.”

“So,” Silver said, “with a few modifications, I think a mirror will give us exactly the cover we need.”

Steel looked around him at the mirrors. “So, which one?”

“A good question,” said Silver, and then his gaze strayed back to Steel. “Which do you think?”

Steel considered the options, walking past several of the mirrors, his form changing shape in each one. “That,” he said, eventually, pointing. “We want it to seem less than it is, not more.”

Silver nodded and moved to the mirror and surveyed himself in it. Already slight, he was reduced to stick-like proportions. “Yes, perfect,” he said and then touched its surface, giving an infectious laugh. Then he turned around and gave Steel a meaningful look. “And now, Steel, we need to get it back to the ghost train.”

*

They placed the borrowed mirror outside the ghost train – even if it wasn’t intelligent, Steel had insisted on that. They didn’t want to give it warning of what they were planning.

Silver ignored the mirror and now started crawling about on the ground around the ride, heedless of the mud under the straw. As Steel moved over, he stopped and held up a two pence piece and smiled in triumph. “Aha!”

“Will this work?” Steel asked. “It’s been shaped by human fears – is itself fear.”

Silver glanced at the mirror for a long moment, as if he was wondering himself but then he looked back up at Steel and beamed. “Well, then – a good long look at itself in the mirror is exactly what it needs.”

*

Steel made his way back inside the darkened ride, but there was no more sign of anything untoward – no noises, no movement, and no sign of the nebulous fear creature. However, when he went to find Silver again, the mirror was still there, leaning against the side, but the technician had gone. He turned around, searching for him, simultaneously alarmed and resentful at that fact. 

“Silver?”

“Steel!” Silver suddenly reappeared in front of him, and thrust a stick of candyfloss into his hands.

Steel looked at it and raised an eyebrow.

“Careful with that,” said Silver, as he crossed back to the mirror and pulled the copper coin out of his pocket.

Steel glanced warily at the mass of sugary pink cloud on a stick that he now seemed to be holding.

“Terribly sticky,” Silver added, by way of explanation. “Not especially good for you, either, I suppose.”

Steel moved towards him, ignoring his irrelevant references to candyfloss and focusing on what was important. “You think it’ll work better if you incorporate an organic element?”

“As you say, Steel,” Silver said, throwing him an amused look. “So don’t go eating it.”

_I don’t eat._

“Well, I don’t call that eating. Even _you_ might be able to… Well,” said Silver. “Don’t try it now, though. I may need it all. And yes, Steel. We want to confuse it, don’t we?”

“You shouldn’t have any trouble with that.”

Silver raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to decide it was a compliment and he laughed, before crouching down in front of the mirror. “Yes. Now, let’s see…”

“Tell me when you’re done,” Steel said, walking away. “It’s time we got this finished.”

Silver turned his head, and he was the one worrying now. “Be careful, Steel. Remember what it did before.”

 _I will_ , said Steel.

*

Once Silver had completed his alterations to the mirror, they made their way back inside the ghost train. Everything was still quiet, but neither of them found that reassuring. On finding the troublesome carriage again, Steel held the mirror in place while Silver crawled behind it, using it as cover to get near to the recalcitrant connection.

 _You’re sure this will work?_ Steel asked again, unable to help having doubts. The idea had too many variables and he disapproved of both the mirror and the candyfloss as tools.

 _Of course. Anyway, all you need to do is to distract it for long enough…_ Silver’s voice in Steel’s mind trailed away, as he transferred his focus to his task.

Steel gripped the mirror more tightly and waited for the creature to make its move again. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear small, rustling movements around him. Then the mirror became cold under his grasp, and he knew the enemy was here. It hadn’t attacked him yet, though. 

_Silver?_ he tried, to be sure that wasn’t because it had homed in on the technician at work.

 _Yes, yes, nearly done…_ Silver sounded abstracted, still caught up in what he was doing.

The mirror shook, as if the creature, whatever it was, understood that something was wrong. Steel held onto it regardless of its efforts. _Silver, hurry!_

“Done,” said Silver, who was abruptly standing at his side again. He put his hand to Steel’s shoulder, lightly. “Is it – is it inside there?”

 _Yes._ Steel could feel the other’s alarm and he gave a short, grim smile. It had fallen still now, so much less than it had been, and trapped inside in confusion due to Silver’s use of the candyfloss and his own image in the glass. Steel laid it down beside the track, and then folded it back, until he had bent the mirror completely in two, trapping the creature, whatever was left of it.

Silver crouched down to examine his handiwork. “Oh, well done,” he said, and then smiled up at Steel.

It wasn’t logical that Steel felt pleased by his admiration, even though it was merely Silver, behaving in the incomprehensible way that he so often did. Steel was careful at least not to let it show.

“Caught in candyfloss,” added Silver, and laughed softly. 

Steel frowned at him. “We need to dispose of this safely and then we can leave this – this –”

“Ride,” said Silver. “Yes. I think we can bury it quite easily, don’t you? That creature was dependent on this place and the time displacement – it won’t last long enough to be found.”

“So let’s get on with it,” growled Steel, and gave one of the fluorescent ghosts one last glare before they left.

*

“Well,” said Silver as they returned to the fair field, “that seems to be that.” He turned his head towards Steel and grinned at him. “I suppose I should thank you for your assistance, Steel, shouldn’t I? I do hope it wasn’t _too_ much trouble.”

“Silver,” Steel said, remaining standing outside the ride. 

Silver turned back in alarm. “Steel. What is it?”

“We should make sure,” said Steel. “If that ride is unsafe, there will be trouble. We can’t have that. You can set it running – test it out – can’t you?”

“Well, _yes_ , but –”

“What?” said Steel.

“I thought you didn’t see the point in being dragged around in a circle.”

Steel shrugged. “We need to be sure. Or will it disturb someone here? What did you tell them you were doing, Silver?”

“I – well,” said Silver, seemingly confused now. “Yes, I can operate the ride, but –”

Steel nodded. “Good. Come on, then.” He gave a brief smile to himself, facing away from Silver, before he looked back. “If you’re scared, Silver, you can hold onto me. I think you said that was the procedure…?”


End file.
